


The Muggleborn's Patronus

by Badderlocks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fanfiction, Gen, How Do I Tag, Magic, Mystery, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Originally Posted Elsewhere, Pokemon, Pokemon Journey, The Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter) is Terrible, no kidding this is my first fanfiction, or fanfiction, seriously I don't normally do tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27852114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badderlocks/pseuds/Badderlocks
Summary: Tom is a Muggleborn, and he's trying his best. After all, he's a Ravenclaw. It's kind of what they do. So when he struggles to conjure even a basic incorporeal Patronus charm, he has to really dig deep and draw from one of his earliest, purest memories. And, like magic, a silvery form bursts forth from his wand and...Wait.Is that a Mudkip?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

Donovan paced the Room of Requirement restlessly. “Come on, guys… Think happy memories. The happiest you’ve got.”

_Wow, great advice. Thanks for the help._

I cursed under my breath and wiped a sweaty hand on my robes.

“Come on, guys! If Harry Potter could pull this off in year three, you lot can do it now!” Donovan called. “You have to live up to the name of Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Harry Potter is a legend, mate! We’re just some random fifth and sixth years,” a Gryffindor replied in frustration. A murmur of assent ran through the assembly.

Donovan shook his head. “Harry Potter may have been the Chosen One, but he was a normal wizard, same as you and me. In fact, it should have been harder for him. _He_ didn’t have a whole lot of happy memories to pick from.”

I did my best to ignore Donovan’s lectures. As a fellow Ravenclaw, he was a smart enough guy and plenty friendly, but he lacked the ability to really control a room the way previous D.A. leaders had. Unfortunately, though he was not a great teacher, he was the only teacher we had for these advanced extracurricular spells.

_Come on, come on, think. Happy memories. Remember when you got the letter?_

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ” I flourished my wand. Once again, nothing happened, though the wand seemed to have a wisp of smoke curling off its tip. I blew on it gently until it stopped.

_Try again. Even happier. Think about when you first saw Diagon Alley. No, better, when you first boarded the train or crossed the lake into the castle._

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ” Another wave, another lackluster reaction. 

_Again!_

“ _Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum! Expecto_ \--” 

“Easy there, Tom,” Donovan said, placing a hand on my wand arm. He lowered his voice. “No one will think less of you if you don’t get this today.” 

“ _I_ will think less of me,” I growled. 

“Hey. Look. I get it. I know it’s hard, what with you being… y’know…” 

“Muggleborn?” I asked slightly too loudly. A few nearby students looked up from their own efforts to watch the confrontation. 

Donovan removed his hand. “Plenty of wizards never successfully cast this charm, let alone a corporeal Patronus. It’s not a big deal.” 

I shook my head stubbornly. “It’s our _thing_ , Don, our sign. D.A. has been teaching its members to cast Patronuses for ages now. Like you said, Potter learned how to do this in year three. I’m bloody sixteen years old and can’t even get a wisp of light.” 

“Somebody needs a cheering charm,” a low voice called out in a stage whisper that carried across the room, causing a series of stifled chuckles. Donovan stared daggers in the direction of the voice, and the laughing was replaced by hasty incantations from students pretending to practice. 

“Look, Tom, you need to have a clear mind to do this. You can’t be frustrated or upset. Trust me. I’ve been there. I understand. Okay?” 

I nodded tightly. “I’ve got this. Don’t worry about me.” 

But I didn’t. 

Half an hour later, half a dozen other members had managed an incorporeal Patronus, and Cal Evans of Hufflepuff had even summoned a full-fledged charm which took the form of a badger. Cheers rang through the room as the silvery animal darted back and forth between students. 

“Alright, guys, that’s it for today. Get to dinner!” Donovan called at the end of the practice. “The Death Eaters may be gone, but the teachers will have our heads if they find out about this!” 

A few students chuckled. Headmistress McGonagall had gone through the halfhearted motions of shutting down the resurgent Dumbledore’s Army at least twice a year, but she had never truly followed through with any punishments or even confiscated their galleons. Most saw it as implicit permission to continue gathering and practicing. 

Some of the members began to trickle out of the Room of Requirement, though most stayed around for a moment to chat with their friends as they gathered books and supplies. I alone stayed at the far end of the room. 

“ _Expecto… Patronum_ ,” I muttered. “ _Expecto Patronum!_ ” 

This time, I didn’t even get smoke. 

_Happy memories. Last chance. It’s now or never._

I thought back on the days before I even knew I was a wizard. I thought about our quaint little house in the village, of days laughing at school with friends, of nights huddled inside under a warm blanket, reading a book or sneaking in a few more Pokemon battles before my mother told me to shut off the game and go to bed. I thought about the adventures I had gone on, the digital creatures I had named and bonded with, how I had wanted more than anything for those same creatures to exist and travel with me across the world. Of course, magic was way better, but I didn’t know magic existed then. I only had the imagination of a child with his favorite game. 

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ” 

A flash of light silenced the remaining students as they all turned to look at me… 

...and at the gleaming creature I had summoned. It swam through the air like it was water, dancing about in a delicate ballet of fins and flippers, finally alighting on my shoulder and casting silver light around me. 

For a moment, the students watching me were completely still. Then, all at once, an outroar poured forth. 

“Did you see…” 

“...flew through the air…” 

“...creepy looking thing…” 

“...mudblood?” 

I was too stunned to be offended. Finally, after all the effort and frustration, I had _done_ it. And not only had I completed the charm, I had summoned a full Patronus, only the second of the day. Finally, I could see what my form was after years of wondering. I looked at the creature on my shoulder as the other students fell silent. 

“What is it?” Liz Taylor, a fourth year Slytherin asked, disgust notably absent from her voice. 

“What, are you blind?” asked a Ravenclaw girl that I didn’t know. “It’s clearly a grindylow.” 

“Cutest grindylow I’ve ever seen,” Liz said. She approached me and held out a tentative hand to the beast. “It’s _adorable_.” 

“I think it’s an axolotl,” said one of the Gryffindors, a half-blood. “My mum bought me a book of the most exciting muggle creatures last Christmas. She still thinks magical creatures are too frightening to think about.” 

I locked eyes with Donovan, the only other muggleborn in the room. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he immediately knew what the creature was. 

He did not look happy. 

“Go to dinner, everyone,” he said seriously. “I mean it. You’ll get us all shut down again.” 

The rest of the students left the room, chattering excitedly about the mysterious creature. 

“Don,” I said hoarsely. 

“Yeah.” 

“Don, Patronuses can only be creatures that really exist, right?” I asked, afraid of the answer. 

“Yeah.” 

“Don, I think we need to see the headmistress,” I said tentatively. 

“...Yeah.” 


	2. Chapter 2

The Headmistress was furious.

“You did _what?_ ” McGonagall asked angrily.

“It’s just extra spell practice, Headmistress!” Donovan protested. “Nothing wrong with it!”

McGonagall’s brow furrowed. “The Minister may be a former member of the Order of the Phoenix, but that does _not_ give you the right to dredge up old forbidden student organizations!” she snapped.

“It was only forbidden because that hag Umbridge was in charge!” 

McGonagall took a deep breath. “Dolores Umbridge may be in Azkaban, but that does not change the fact that her policies had an impact upon the Ministry and on this school,” she said sternly.

“That’s not fair,” Donovan said heatedly. “You-Know-Who might still be around if the DA hadn’t been able to fight so well. They fought him and half a dozen Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries! Neville killed the snake!”

“I know, Walker. I was _there_ ,” she said waspishly. “Need I remind you there was a war, a war that has been over for nearly a decade now?”

“And what if they come back? What then?” Donovan demanded.

“Then I imagine the Aurors will deal with it. They are quite good at dealing with dark magic, you know,” she said drily. 

“But--”

McGonagall held up a hand and Donovan stopped immediately. We both knew she had been patient and that he was about to step over a line.

“This discussion will be resumed at a future date. It’s late, and I would like to know _why_ you found it necessary to barge into my office,” she said.

Donovan shifted from foot to foot nervously. “Well… we were having a DA practice… and…” he added hurriedly as McGonagall’s brow furrowed even farther, a feat I had not thought possible. “...and we were practicing the Patronus charm.”

“I’m glad to see you haven’t forgotten your roots,” McGonagall muttered, a strange mixture of anger and pride in her voice. “And how many full form patronuses did you achieve?”

“Two, not including my own,” Donovan said. “But…”

“But?”

Donovan gestured at me. “We had an… unconventional form appear.”

For the first time that night, McGonagall turned her piercing eyes to me. “Mr. Clark. Indeed. I would expect no less than utmost achievement from Ravenclaw.”

“And another Muggleborn,” Donovan added as I flushed.

“Very impressive magic indeed for a sixth year, but nothing we have not seen before,” McGonagall said. “This unconventional form, what was it? A phoenix? A dragon?”

Donovan hesitated, knowing fully how insane he would sound. “A… a Pokemon, professor.”

“A what?” she asked, off-balance for the first time.

“Pokémon. Short for pocket monster. It’s… it’s a child’s video game.

“Video game.” McGonagall stared at me again, an appraising look in her eyes.

“A video game is a moving picture that you can--” Donovan began.

“I know what a video game is, Walker,” she snapped. “I do try to stay up to date on Muggle Studies.”

“Yes, of course. Sorry, professor,” he said meekly.

“So what is this? A Saga? A Nees? One of those Arkady games?”

I blinked twice hard. Only my supreme fear of the headmistress stopped me from laughing out loud.

“Uh… no,” said Donovan in a strangled voice. I glanced at him and watched his struggle to remain serious. “It’s a small handheld device. A GameBoy. The game itself is maybe ten years old.”

McGonagall frowned. “Indeed. And you’re sure Clark’s form was one of these… pocket monsters?”

I met Donovan’s gaze and saw the uncertainty in his eyes. “Well… no, professor, but if it’s not that, I’m not sure _what_ it was.”

“Very well.” McGonagall stood and turned around, glancing at the various portraits of headmasters on the wall. Every single portrait present was leaning forward, paying close attention.

“It would not do to have word of this spread unnecessarily if there is something to it,” she announced, and many of the portraits slumped backwards, doubtless miffed that they could not spread new gossip.

She turned back to us. “Do you think you can produce it again?”

I swallowed hard. “Maybe… I think so. It’s hard, but… I think I found my memory.”

“Good,” she said. “Rest assured we will not force you to exert yourself too much. In fact, to that end…”

She pulled out her wand and with a flourish summoned two silver cats that danced around the room before darting out through the office door.

“Take a seat, gentlemen. Particularly you, Clark. I’m summoning Professor Hagrid and Professor Flitwick. If they cannot identify the form your charm takes, then I doubt anyone can. Now, tell me more about these creatures.”

* * *

Professor Flitwick walked into the office a few minutes later and joined Professor McGonagall in a hasty whispered conference. He broke off abruptly after a moment.

“Corporeal Patronus, Clark? Very impressive, very impressive indeed!” he exclaimed, peering over his glasses. “And you taught him, Walker? Yes, _very_ impressive.”

“Filius!” McGonagall said sharply.

“But, er, you should not be reviving the DA!” Flitwick added hastily. “That’s quite unnecessary. The war is over, after all…”

Still, he looked extremely happy about what we had accomplished, the slight smile vanishing from his face only when the door banged open again and Hagrid squeezed through.

“Wha’s this abou’, then? Yeh’ve got a creature needs identifyin’?” Hagrid boomed, his enormous silver-streaked beard swaying wildly as he peered around the room.

“Not quite, Rubeus,” McGonagall said, and Hagrid deflated slightly. 

“Tom, Don, good ter see yeh,” Hagrid said. 

“Hullo, Hagrid,” said Don.

I muttered my own greeting quietly under my breath. My heart was pounding.

“Rubeus, Tom here has produced a peculiar corporeal Patronus charm that we need your help with,” McGonagall said.

“Patronus, eh? Yeh’d best ask Filius about tha’. I’m no charms expert,” Hagrid said.

“The issue is, Rubeus…” McGonagall glanced at Don and me. “The issue is that we can’t identify the exact form of it. Or so Donovan says, at least.”

“Tha’ so?” Hagrid looked at me curiously. 

“We think it’s an undiscovered magical creature,” Donovan explained.

“But that’s quite impossible,” Flitwick said. “How could he produce the form without knowledge of the creature? The Patronus charm can only draw from the mind of its creator.”

“Perhaps undiscovered is the wrong word, Professor,” Donovan clarified. “It’s just that we previously thought it was… well… fictional,” he finished lamely.

“Fictional? I’m not quite aware of many wizarding stories with fictional creatures,” Flitwick said curiously.

Hagrid looked at them and cocked his head slightly. “But you two’re Muggleborns, aren’t yeh?”

Flitwick looked horrified. “You mean Muggle fiction? Muggle stories?” He looked at me, eyes wide, and I nodded silently. Behind McGonagall, even more of the portraits had filled up with former headmasters. They broke out into murmurs at the last statement but fell silent at a cutting glare from McGonagall.

“Fortunately, to our knowledge, the Muggles also think these creatures to be mere imagination,” said McGonagall. “However, if they _are_ real, it is imperative that we find them and protect the Statute of Secrecy.”

“If we don’t even know about these creatures, would their discovery by the Muggles really be such a danger to us?” Flitwick asked.

“If they are as powerful as Clark and Walker seem to think, then perhaps they do. At the very least, they represent the possibility for a paradigm shift between Muggles and wizardkind. The powers they grant to Muggles would be… supposedly… quite significant.”

Flitwick frowned but said no more. Hagrid’s expression seemed to oscillate rapidly between ecstatic and panicked.

“Well? Le’s see it!” Hagrid said, breaking the silence.

I glanced at McGonagall and she nodded slightly.

I drew my wand.

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

The silvery Mudkip burst forth from the tip of my wand and swam about the Headmistress’s office, perhaps glowing slightly less than before. It danced around the room, alighting on many of the different surfaces and artifacts that were scattered about the office.

Flitwick squeaked as it appeared and seemed faint. Hagrid’s mouth fell open at once, but as soon as he regained his composure he began to applaud loudly. The portraits, meanwhile, had abandoned any pretense of politeness. Their loud, excited conversations filled the room as their eyes traced the glowing creature’s path. McGonagall attempted to remain composed, but as soon as the Mudkip came near her, she dropped her wand in shock.

The Mudkip landed on McGonagall’s desk in front of me and looked at me one final time before evaporating.

“Oh, well done, Tom, well done!” Hagrid exclaimed.

“My word, excellent! Quite excellent!” Flitwick said.

“Indeed,” said McGonagall drily. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen a form quite like that before.”

“Not once, headmistress,” Flitwick agreed. “I never quite got a good look at it, but it seemed rather unique.”

“Rubeus?” McGonagall asked, but Hagrid was already shaking his head.

“I’d ‘member somethin’ like that, professor,” he said. “Ain’t seen nuthin’ like it before, I promise yeh tha’.”

McGonagall frowned. “If that’s the case, then perhaps Walker’s theory holds water.” She returned to her desk and placed her hands flat on its surface.

“Gentlemen, I trust you will not speak of this to anyone outside this room,” she said, glancing at each of us in turn. Her gaze settled on Hagrid for perhaps a moment longer than the rest of us, and he flushed slightly.

“‘Course, professor,” he said gruffly.

“You have my word,” Flitwick promised. “Though, of course, I would like to work with Clark on his form a bit more. The charm has potential, certainly, but I think his technique could be refined, if you don’t mind me saying so,” he added with a nod in my direction.

“Oh. Uh, of course not. Can always learn more,” I said hastily. 

“Perhaps you will find the time to discuss extracurricular lessons later, Filius,” McGonagall said. “In the meantime, if you and Walker would leave us a moment to speak.”

Flitwick nodded and left, followed by Donovan, who gave me a bewildered look before exiting the office.

“Now, Clark,” McGonagall began. “I believe you had a discussion with Filius last year on your potential career paths, did you not?”

The sudden change of topics almost left me with whiplash. “Yes, professor. We never quite never narrowed down which O.W.L.s I should focus on, though.”

“As is to be expected of any high-achieving Ravenclaw, of course. What were your thoughts on the matter?”

I shrugged self-consciously. “I suppose I had considered being a healer or artificer. My dream had been to invent spells, but… I fear I lack the creativity for it.”

“So you are not taking Care of Magical Creatures this year?” she asked.

I flushed slightly, all too aware of Hagrid’s looming presence. “No, professor. I ran out of space in my schedule quickly and it never seemed…”

The unspoken _important_ seemed to hang in the air for a moment and I studied the ground.

“...it never seemed relevant to your dreams. Well, Clark, we will never fault a student on choosing their path and sticking to it. Few spell inventors ever found themselves tangling with manticores, after all.”

I nodded in thanks of her smooth covering of the awkward moment. “I enjoyed the class, I really did,” I said in Hagrid’s general direction.

“‘S’alright,” he muttered. “‘S’an elective course for a reason anyhow.”

“But situations change,” McGonagall said, her voice taking on a new strength. “Although I hesitate to suggest that these… creatures are an immediate priority. it is clear that you possess some affinity with them. If they become relevant to the secrecy of wizarding society, it is paramount that you have the skills and knowledge necessary to deal with them.

“Professor?” I asked, unsure of where she was heading.

“With your permission, Rubeus, I would like to set up private lessons between yourself and Mr. Clark. I believe taking him through the N.E.W.T. level course at an advanced pace will be a good start.”

“O’ course, professor,” Hagrid said. “And th-”

“Neither of you are to go looking for the creatures,” McGonagall said firmly. “It would be foolish to act on this information until we know more about them. To that end, Clark…”

“Yes, professor?” I asked.

“I feel it would be prudent to learn more about these Muggle games of yours,” she said hesitantly.

“Erm… professor, they are electronic,” I said. “They won’t work at Hogwarts.”

“Yes, that is an issue,” she replied. Her face hardened into an expression of mild annoyance. “I suppose we’ll have to leave the castle so I can... play... Pokémon. Now, best you get back to Ravenclaw Tower.”

I nodded, completely speechless at the turns the night had taken, and walked towards the office door.

“Oh, and Clark?”

“Yes, professor?” I asked, turning back around.

McGonagall’s stern face softened as she looked me in the eyes.

“That was some nice spellwork, Clark. Twenty points to Ravenclaw.”


	3. Chapter 3

The turbulent, cloudy ceiling of the Great Hall seemed to mock the feeling in my stomach during lunch the next day. I half expected it to start raining on me at any moment, despite knowing that the enchanted ceiling was not quite _that_ realistic.

“Easy, Tom,” Don said as he slid into the seat next to me. “What’s all the moping about?”

“Must be this secret that he’s refusing to tell us,” replied James, who was sitting on the other side of me.

Don did a double-take when he saw James. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be sitting with the other Hufflepuffs?”

James shrugged. “I’m interrogating Tom, aren’t I? No rules against moving tables anyhow,” he added defensively. “I spend at least half my meals here.”

Don stared at him. “Really?”

“Yeah, he won’t leave me alone,” I said. “Been that way since at least second or third year.”

“Oh,” Don said, frowning. “But he doesn’t know about…”

I shook my head morosely. “And he won’t leave me the hell alone on that either,” I said, shooting him a glare.

“What can I say?” said James, buttering a roll. “I’m not smart or brave or cunning, but I am persistent.”

“I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal, not annoying,” I said.

James shrugged. “No difference between loyal and annoying except how others react to it.”

“That’s fair,” I muttered.

“Well, I was hoping to talk to you about the… situation,” Don said. “I mean, I know McGonagall told us to not tell anyone else about it but I think we should at least figure out _how_ to keep it hidden.”

“The _headmistress_ is involved in this?” James asked, astounded. 

I glared at Don. “Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. “And I imagine she would be quite upset if she knew information about this was getting out.”

Don had the decency to blush. “Sorry, but I don’t think _that_ part is a secret. We’ll have to use her name to threaten people into silence anyway.”

“Whoa, whoa, you’re threatening people?” James asked, drawing back. “That seems a bit excessive.”

“We’re not threatening anyone,” I hissed. “We simply need to clear up a few misunderstandings with some members of the DA.”

“Ooh, I love a good misunderstanding. Did you hurt someone? Jinx someone?” James gasped. “Did you use an _unforgivable curse_ on someone?”

I gave James a withering stare. “James, those are highly illegal. If I had used one and McGonagall’s involved, I’d be on a train back to London with my wand snapped in half.”

But he was still unperturbed. “So you jinxed someone? Was it a duel? Did you get ‘em with a good Bat Bogey Hex?”

“James, would you please shut it for a second?” I asked irritably. “Don, we can discuss this later, but right now I need to--”

“Hey, Tom, Don!” Liz said loudly as she sat on the other side of Don. “Hey, um, James,” she added with a blush.

“Liz!” James greeted cheerfully. “I feel like we haven’t talked in ages.”

“Oh, for f-- are there any Gryffindors that want to come over here?” I asked loudly while standing, drawing a few stares. “I’d like to round out the full set. Anyone?” I sat back down. “Guess it’s just us clowns for the moment.”

“Ah, Liz,” Donovan said. “Tom and I were hoping to get a chance to talk to you.”

“Ooh, is it about the corporeal Patronus Tom cast yesterday? Did you guys find out what it is?” she asked excitedly.

James gasped. “YOU CAST A CORPOREAL PATRONUS?!”

“Okay, that’s IT!” I stood and grabbed James and Liz by the fronts of their robes and dragged them to a much less crowded stretch of table towards the back of the Great Hall. Don followed close behind as I whipped out my wand.

“ _Muffliato._ Okay. Can you lot shut up for just a minute?” I asked, glaring at the trio. “James, first of all, _yes_ , I cast a corporeal Patronus, and _no_ , we don’t know what form it is. Liz, it’s supposed to be a damn secret, so if you could stop yelling about it so loudly that they can hear you at the Ministry, that would be ideal. And Don… maybe you’re right. Clearly we need to set some rules with whoever saw it.”

“Wait. You don’t know what form your Patronus is?” James asked. 

I glanced at Don. “We have strong suspicions.”

“So what is it?” he asked, eyes wide.

“It’s a Muggle thing,” I said evasively.

“What, like a non-magical creature?”

“Erm… not exactly.”

“No, it was clearly a magical creature,” Liz said confidently. “I know non-magical creatures pretty well and I’ve never seen anything like _that_ before.”

I glared at her.

“Wait… so it’s a Muggle thing _and_ a magical creature?” James asked.

I glared at Liz even harder, but she just shrugged unapologetically.

“Is that even possible?” James pressed on. “I mean, Muggles are by definition non-magical. If they knew about a magical creature, wouldn’t the whole Statute of Secrecy thing be up in flames?”

“The trick is that the Muggles think they’re fictional,” said Donovan.

“Are they?” James asked.

“We don’t really know,” I sighed. “That’s the mystery, I suppose.”

“And why McGonagall wants to keep it quiet,” Liz added. “ _If_ these things are real, they’re a serious threat to our secrecy if the Ministry doesn’t have them under control.”

“They have to be real, don’t they?” I asked. “You saw it, after all. You’ve never seen a creature like that before, have you?”

Liz shrugged. “I haven’t seen a lot of creatures before,” she said airily. “Doesn’t mean they exist.”

Don squinted at her. “That doesn’t even… nevermind. Regardless, not even Hagrid was able to identify it, and he’s discovered several magical species of his own.”

“And Flitwick seems fairly confident that a Patronus can only take the form of a real, living creature,” I said. “So if we put two and two together…”

“...it must be a real thing. Huh.” Liz looked at me. “So what is it?”

“If I tell you, you have to swear to keep it a secret,” I said seriously. “You too, James.”

“Please. If Hagrid knows, it won’t be a secret for long,” Liz snorted. “But fine, _I promise_.”

“Me too,” James said. “So what is it? Can you cast it right now?”

“I’m not going to cast the spell whose form I’m supposed to be keeping secret in the middle of the Great Hall at lunch, you bloody idiot,” I said scathingly.

James deflated slightly. “Oh. Right. Yeah.”

“But… we think it’s a Mudkip, a type of Pokémon,” I said lamely. The words still felt foreign to my mouth, as if it was still a surprise to be taking the subject seriously.

James and Liz both looked at me blankly. “Mud… kip?” James said hesitatingly. “Like… like mud and kippers?”

“No! Well, yes, I suppose. It is a mud fish, in a manner of speaking.” I looked to Don for help but he just shrugged. “Pokémon are pocket monsters. They’re sorts of magical creatures that can manipulate elements of nature and stuff, and you store them in tiny little balls, thus the pocket bit. Mudkip is a sort of froggy fishy looking thing that can manipulate water and earth, mostly.”

“Uh...huh…” Liz narrowed her eyes. “Don, did you spike him with some Essence of Insanity?”

“It’s true, actually. Or at least I can back up what he’s saying,” Don replied. “It sounds insane because it _is_ insane. We never thought they would be real either, not until that Patronus popped up in the Room of Requirement.”

“So what are you going to do?” James broke in.

“Do?” I asked.

“Yeah, are you going to find these things or what?”

“I’m not going to do anything! I’ve been told to just keep it a secret and take private lessons with Hagrid!”

James made a dismissive hand motion. “If Hagrid doesn’t recognize these things, what good are private lessons? Besides, if I had a galleon for every time I ignored something McGonagall said, I’d own Gringotts.”

“The goblins would never sell Gringotts to a wizard,” Don broke in.

“Not the point, you pedant. I’m saying that she’s not always right, and even if she is that’s _way_ more boring than doing something stupid.”

“We’re Ravenclaws. We don’t do stupid,” I said. “And you’re a Hufflepuff. You’re supposed to be loyal to McGonagall because she’s important to you or some such nonsense.”

“Fine, then,” Liz said. “I’m supposed to be cunning, and _I_ say we can get ourselves in a pretty good position if we find these things first. What do you say to _that_?”

“I say you can forget about it. The only information we know about these things comes from the knowledge that Don and I have along with my Patronus, and we’re not helping you. Right, Don?” I looked at the older Ravenclaw, confident he would support me.

“We-ell…” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Hey, easy, Tom. I’m just saying finding knowledge is kind of our thing. I’d argue it’s our prerogative to find these things for the sake of learning. I bet Flitwick would agree with me, too.”

I ground my teeth slightly. “They’re _dangerous_ , Don. These things can probably kill people with a single move if they’re so inclined. Best to leave that to someone trained.”

“Isn’t that why you’re taking lessons with Hagrid?” he pointed out. “Besides, if they’re so dangerous, they could kill someone that doesn’t know better. Maybe even a Muggle. Last thing we need these days is another magical something going around killing Muggles.”

“So that’s what Aurors are for. We’re _kids_.”

“I’m not. You won’t be for much longer, I think. I don’t know about either James or Liz but if they’re both sixth year they don’t have to wait long either.”

“No,” I said stubbornly.

Don sighed. “Can we at least rustle some bushes, do a bit of research? It’s the smart thing to do, really.”

“Oh yeah, Don? What do you want to do? Drag some Gameboys into Hogwarts so they can stop working as soon as we get within a mile of the castle? Order a game guide by owl and read up on it? D’you think we should get a GameShark for our non Muggleborn friends who wouldn’t recognize a type matchup if you hit them over the head with it?”

“Hey!” Liz protested, though it was clear she did not know what the insult meant.

“Well… we could talk to _The Quibbler_.”

“That rag?” Liz said, disgusted. “They haven’t been relevant since that interview with Harry Potter.”

“That may be,” Don admitted, “but Luna’s a great naturalist _and_ she married Newt’s grandson.”

“Who?” James whispered to me.

“Newt Scamander, author of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ ,” I whispered back.

“Oh. Never bothered to read that one,” he muttered, and I rolled my eyes. Meanwhile, Don had continued talking.

“...really do think the Crumple-Horned Snorcack might exist! There’s very compelling evidence,” he said defensively.

“I don’t know, Don,” I said. “Even if she’s right about that, _The Quibbler_ has been wrong far too many times for me to trust them.”

“You’re just afraid, that’s all,” he taunted.

“No, really. She's always been a bit batty. Claimed you-know-who's snake used to be a woman and that her grandfather-in-law dueled Grindelwald and all that. It’s a bit much for me.”

Don frowned. “That’s an editorialized work of fiction based on true events and you know it.”

“It’s rubbish is what it is,” Liz muttered. “Did you hear what McGonagall said about the second one, what with the part that claimed she was teaching at Hogwarts eight years before she was born?”

“She just sniffed and said ‘Mrs. Scamander never lost her father's flair for the eccentric’, didn’t she?” James asked.

“Yeah, but that means something else coming from McGonagall. She worked with Dumbledore for years, after all, and that man set new standards for eccentric twice a month,” Liz replied.

“Dumbledore was a hero,” Don hissed. “Harry Potter says so, and who knew him better in the end? So what if Luna has an affinity for the outlandish?”

“She has an affinity for the untrue, if you ask me,” I said plainly. “Friend of Harry Potter or no, if we’re searching for these things I don’t want to waste ages on a wild goose chase because she thinks they’re hiding from invisible flying Plimberitons or blending into the local cadderish energies or whatever.”

“You made those words up,” James challenged.

I shrugged. “So does _Quibbler_.”

“Wow, harsh.”

“So you _are_ interested in searching for the Mudkip,” Liz said.

“Wait, no, that’s not--”

“You’re right, Liz! ‘If we’re searching for these things…’ So you’re in!” Don pumped a fist in excitement.

“No, no, _listen to me_ \--”

“Oh, come on, Tom, you’ve been moping all morning. You only perked up when we brought up this whole adventure,” James said.

“NO! WILL YOU JUST STOP?!”

They fell silent.

“This is ridiculous! We have nowhere to start and we can’t even leave the castle without abandoning our educations entirely. We would get exactly one meter out the door before falling flat on our faces and running back! At the very least we need to see what McGonagall and Hagrid say. I’ve talked to them exactly _once_ about this and it was for less time than you lot have been harassing me, so will you just leave it?”

James looked hurt. “We just want to help. You seem so down.”

I breathed in deeply. “I know. I’m sorry. I just don’t like the stress. McGonagall insists that this needs to be a secret so I want to keep it that way for at least a little while. It’s been a day. Give her time, alright? She hasn’t even played the game yet.”

“Yet?” Don asked, an amused expression on his face. “Don’t tell me- you’re going to take field trips away from Hogwarts with McGonagall to play the games?” He grinned. “Unbelievable.”

I sighed. “You’re telling me.”


End file.
